


An Archer's Power

by cjg



Series: Much Much Later [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Emotional Support, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Muscles, Partial Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-01 06:22:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13288863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjg/pseuds/cjg
Summary: The one where Percy wants to go hunting with Vex. Which leads to Vex having ideas which Percy is all too ready to make a reality.OrThe one where Percy wants to borrow one of Vex's bows. Vex finds that idea intriguing on so many levels. Percy proves himself to be gifted with a bow after some pointers and if Vex were any good at swooning, she would.The Much Much Later Series does not need to be read to enjoy this fic at all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **The Much Much Later Series does not need to be read to enjoy this fic at all.
> 
> Somehow I made this work with canon and with My Much Much Later Series. I really don't know how that happened but it did.**

“I think I’ll take you up on your offer and go hunting with you tomorrow,” he says into the steady quiet of the castle workshop, for a moment she thinks she’s imagined his words. He’s barely shifted from his place across the large work table, concentrating on the portion of the clock tower that he’s been in front of for the two hours since their meeting ended.

It’s not until he reaches out for a gear and doesn’t look up, even after not finding it that she realizes he’s mapping out what he’s working on in his mind and can’t look away from it.

She’s surprised but pleased that he wants to try hunting so soon. He’s been a little down since he purposefully destroyed his own weapons along with everything else three weeks ago. He’s been having problems concentrating during meetings since, and only when he’s in the workshop, tinkering with the clock does he seems to be able to focus fully.

Putting down her fletching, she passes him the gear she thinks he’s looking for, it's the only gear on that side of the table. “This is what you wanted?” she asks once it’s in his hand.

“Yes,” and he puts the gear down on the table again, just for a moment, so he can hold her hand, giving it a slight squeeze, a silent thank you, he then lets go, and they both go back to what they were doing before.

She doesn’t need to fletch arrows, not really, but she likes it when the exploding arrows he makes her are a little bit more identifiable. So she can feel with her fingers the subtle difference between the magically enchanted ones and the special ones he alters when they’re in the smaller portion of her quiver.

Once she thinks he’s gotten the piece put in correctly she asks curiously, looking up from her work, “Will you bring the crossbow you bought?” 

He slightly shakes his head, “I thought that it would be an alright substitute, but it’s just too clunky. It doesn’t feel right,” he’s clearly disappointed. She’s left wondering about what he plans to use during the hunt. 

“What will you do then, challenge every beast to a duel?” she jokes, but the more she thinks about it, the funnier the image in her head becomes, him bowing to an elk in the middle of the Parchwood, sword out.

Her question does cause him to look up at her, his eyes such a bright blue behind his glasses. There’s a smile on his soft face as he quietly laughs. 

When he calms down, he stops for a moment thinking and then starts to say, as if unsure, “I was actually wondering if I might borrow a bow?”

“Oh,” she's surprised by the question, but somehow it makes sense, him trying something that’s so different from his pistols. Recovering quickly, “I was going to take my Blood-Seeking Bow tomorrow like I usually do on hunting trips but that does leave the Longbow of the Sky Sentinel for you to use.”

“Thank you,” a fond expression settles on his face and after a moment she passes him one of the two identical gears that are left loose on the closer side of the table. It spurs him into action, his eyes shifting down to his work again.

The conversation ends then, he is back to his work, and she’s thinking, more about him dueling an elk then letting her mind wander. It only takes a minute for one image to become stuck in her mind. She desperately wants to find out if it’s just as good in real life. She watches him for a bit, studying the expressions on his face, the tilt of his head, the curve of his shoulders, and his deceptively muscular arms that are hidden under his shirtsleeves. 

Breaking the comfortable quiet, she says as if she's only just thought of it, “I always thought you knew how to use a bow, you understand arrows so well, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you use one.”

“It’s been a very long time, but I did learn to hunt with a longbow because my mother and father wanted me to. I wasn’t the greatest with it then,” he admits without looking up from his work, there is a few metal clanking noises, “shit,” taking a breath he adds, a little strain in his voice, “I wouldn’t want to rely on one in battle.” 

After considering his words and once he seems to have fixed the problem she gets up from her spot across the table from him and circles around to his side. Yes, this could be very interesting. Unable to keep the thought to herself any longer she says softly, just a few steps from him, “You’d look good with a bow I think.” 

Sometimes it is better to actually say what you’re thinking instead of skirting around the subject. Just having that thought out of her head makes it all so much less distracting, she can focus on his reaction. He goes still for a second, “Would I?” It's said like he doesn’t believe it.

Moving closer, both hands gently rest on his shoulders, “There’s a power to it, similar to when you shot with Bad News, it’s all in the shoulders.”

“I didn’t know you took the time to look,” he says playfully, turning to look up at her. He is such a liar, he knows exactly how often she looks at him. His eyes follow her as she sits down on the bench next to him on his right side, almost touching, the table pressing into her back.

Playing along for now because sometimes his vanity needs stroking, she shrugs and says nonchalantly, “Just a glance every once in a while. It never put us in danger.” She doesn’t want to give him complete satisfaction quite yet. She wants to string this out a little longer. 

“During battle?” She can’t help the blush that rises on her face, he’s caught her there, she’ll have to admit to it now.

“Sometimes you can be very distracting,” she concedes after a moment, it’s then that his expression shifts from playful to contemplative. 

The teasing over for the moment, she wants to know what is going through his mind. “What is it?” she asks, placing a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezing.

A grin spreads across his face. “I’ve been distracted during battle too. You’re right that an archer’s power is in the shoulders, but I’d also say some of the power is in their back too,” he admits to her while putting his tools down on the table. He takes his glasses off, and moves closer, resting his hands on her hips, just holding her.

Grabbing the center of his shirt, she doesn’t pull him in, but she does look him square in the eye, “Come here you.” It’s then that he closes what’s left of the distance between them. His right hand moves from her hip to the bench to help him keep steady. Before his lips meet hers she can’t help but marvel at how well they understand each other, they both know how attractive they find each other, but sometimes it’s nice to be reminded of that by your love. 

They're equals in the kiss, a steady give and take of his mouth against hers until she gets distracted thinking about him and his shoulders, her hands moving to them in response, holding on and keeping him close. His hot tongue slides into her mouth while her thoughts spiral into the idea of how good he would look shooting with just this shirt on, not hidden under three layers of fabric, or even better if there’s no shirt at all, now that’s an idea.

Getting more absorbed by her thoughts, he starts to eagerly take over the kiss, slowing them down just how he likes and opening her mouth up more, giving him all the access he could want. 

It doesn’t last for long, no, not with this new idea that she can’t get out of her mind, she’s focused. Breaking the kiss, she turns her head and looks at the last gear on the table and asks, “This next one is the last for today right?”

“Yes,” he says still adorably dazed from the kiss.

“Perfect,” she's very pleased that she’s correct, “I’ll be right back,” she adds so he will move and she can get up.

He does shift away. After he puts his glasses back on, he asks, “Where are you going?” as she stands up.

“I’m getting the bow and finding you a quiver and the other things you’ll need for tomorrow. While I do that, you finish here and clean up," leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek.

Taking her hand before she can move away, a questioning look on his face he asks, “What are you planning?”

“I need you not to be more distracting than normal tomorrow,” she says. Watching as one eyebrow rises completely above the frame of his glasses, in surprise. 

Grinning down at him, “Yes, so after everything is finished here would you mind shooting some arrows at a target while I stand by and watch?”

She’s not surprised by his momentary silence. He’s still concentrating on her face looking for more. After a moment he must find it because he asks warily, “That’s not all of it, I can see it in your eyes.”

Sitting back down on the bench, she asks hesitantly, “Would you be comfortable enough to try this shirtless?” 

He looks confused for a second before it dawns on him, “Right the shoulders,” he says with a laugh. He takes her other hand as he turns more toward her, looking at her, “I should be fine and if I’m not, you’ll heal me.” 

“Yes, I will,” she says searching his eyes for more. He doesn’t seem over-confident, but he’s not worried about it at all, genuinely trusting her instead. 

She's excited, this will be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Research did go into these chapters but I, unlike Vex and Percy, don't actually know how to use a bow. I did my best and if there's something so absolutely wrong with how I wrote the actual shooting bits please leave a comment and advise me how to correct it.

When they reach the remains of Fire-Cracker-Alley she’s surprised at how much is left, hay bails and targets still in place ready to be used. Thankfully there’s hardly any wind, and the sun won’t begin to set for hours. Plenty of time for him to prepare and do this while there’s still enough light out.

It is an excellent feeling, teaching him how to string the bow, he’d already attuned himself to it before he started, so the enchantments listen to him. He’s able to focus on the task, looking to her for direction and stringing the bow correctly as a result.

He doesn’t take off his shirt immediately, just his coat and cravat, and she’s only partially disappointed. She works on her fletching while sitting atop a few bails of hay. She gets three more arrows done while he stretches, almost perfectly doing the set of exercises she does before going into battle. He does it twice, and while she’s not surprised that he knows it by heart, it’s one of those things where it’s nice to know he pays enough attention to be able to do it himself.

When she thinks he’s ready, she calls him over to where she sits. The bows, her quiver, and her broom are leaning to one side of her, her fletching kit resting on the top of the hay bail on that same side. His coat and cravat, the length of silk tucked into one of the pockets, on the other side. His newly purchased equipment behind her.

She’s actually taller than him for once while sitting on the hay, the top of his head actually in line with her chin. He must know that the vest and shirt need to go before she’ll hand over the equipment that is behind her because he starts taking off the vest without prompting, folding it so it won’t get too much hay in it and putting it on top of his coat.

Winking at her, he starts slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt. He knows all too well what getting her way does to her. Seeing his usual perfect appearance mussed when he’s outside, when he’s electing to do it, is so rare. She can’t help but enjoy the show he’s putting on for her.

It’s good that this is happening like this she thinks, it will allow him to practice shooting without any of the pressure that their hunt will have tomorrow. She’s going to do her best to keep his focus on his shooting and about how he’s doing this for her, not giving him a chance for his thoughts to wonder. She doesn’t want him to compare the bow with any other weapon.

Once he’s out of his shirt, he lays it with the rest of his clothes, and she hands over the belt and hip quiver that is full of arrows. He puts it on just as he should and then reaches out for the new long brown leather archery gloves she purchased for him. Watching as he slides them on and adjusts both to fit, she’s pleased that she was right in thinking that if he needed to, Diplomacy should fit over the smooth leather of the left glove easily.

While he finishes with the right glove, she takes the bow and holds it out for him to take. He almost reaches out to it but stops short, looks at her instead and says softly, “I remember when you first found this bow in the giant fortress. As distracted as I was then, your excitement,” he reaches out toward her and gently strokes her cheek, only the skin of some of his fingertips not covered by gloves, “the look of pure joy on your face, it cut through everything.”

“Percival,” she whispers, her voice embarrassingly emotional suddenly. She takes his hand in hers before he can move it away. Kissing his fingertips and lingering on each one, then placing a kiss on his leathered covered palm.

Leaning the bow against the hay bails she takes out from a pouch at her side one of the long strips of soft flat black leather she keeps for her hair and starts to wrap it around his wrist quickly. “A favor from your lady,” she explains as she finishes tying it off in a small knot.

“For luck?” he asks, examining it and fiddling with the leather, it’s not wrapped tight, a finger can fit underneath each layer.

“For luck, for love,” then she takes the bow and passes it to him, “and for much more than that,” she says once he’s holding it.

The moment hangs on until he shifs his hold of the bow. “It's three fingers right?” he asks even though he's already expertly holding the bow, fingers barely touching the bowstring. She can't help the part of her that wishes he was talking about putting three of his fingers other places.

“You know it is, darling." Of course, he knows how to do this, and she never expected him not to. There’s a smirk on his face as he aims and then pulls back on the string without an arrow and brings it to the side of his cheek and holds it for a second and releases slowly, the tension in his body slowly fading along with the tension of the bow. It’s all so perfectly hot watching his fingers the entire time. He does it seven more times right in front of her just to get the feeling for it, each one just as perfect as the first.

Once he breaks form she can’t help but be impressed, “I never knew how much I’d love seeing you with a bow until right now.”

“I’m glad of that because I honestly feel a little ridiculous at the moment,” he's blushing before he turns around and heads toward the closest target.

Hopping down before he gets too far she runs up till she reaches him. A hand on his shoulder makes him turn around, and she pulls him in closer for a kiss, biting gently on his lower lip, he moans into her mouth. “You’re not and never could be ridiculous for doing this,” she whispers against his lips. Then she’s gone with a wink, turning from him and getting back on the hay bails.

Reassuring him once he stops walking, “This won’t take long, try a couple,” while taking his shirt in her hands and hugging it, putting her nose to the collar she's able to smell him there, she feels surrounded by him even from 20 yards away.

Watching as he gets in position once more, now turned away from her, he gets an arrow, takes aim, and shoots at the target. It goes wide but gods the momentary tension in his shoulders and back as he pulled the string and arrow back before the shot, if only she were any good at swooning.

He tries four more, but each go too high. Not wanting him to be discouraged she puts the shirt down and activates the broom. In the seconds it takes for her to arrive at his side, she says into the earring, “You look amazing like this.”

Once she’s closer, she says from right behind him, “Aim lower a bit.”

He adjusts, and it does go into the target, but it lands at the very bottom, “Too much." Again he tries, but this time it sinks into the very top of the target.

It’s then that he turns a little toward her, a look of help me in his eyes, “Here,” placing her broom on the ground. She lines up in front of him pretending to hold her bow, instantly finding exactly the right aim for the bull's-eye 10 yards away. He mimics her and finds the right middle ground, pulling back and shooting, the arrow sinks into the bull's-eye just off center.


	3. Chapter 3

He doesn’t break form as she does, determined to do it again. Now that he has the right level for the arrow in his mind she encourages him by saying, “Yes, perfect,” while running a finger along his shoulders. He takes a big breath in, readies another arrow, and aims. 

Admiring his back and shoulders up close this time while he pulls back and shoots, once she knows it has hit the middle she presses a kiss to the center of his back and just to be a bit distracting whispers, “Like that, just like that,” against his skin.

It’s then that she realizes that he’s ignoring her or at least trying to. Stepping back she guides him through the next shot, “Square up, breathe slowly, in, out, aim.” After a heartbeat, “pull.”

It hits the center of the target.

“Yes, very good sharpshooter,” putting her chin on his shoulder blade and kissing the back of his neck lightly over a scar, there’s very little reaction from him except a deep breath in and a slight turn of his head in her direction.

Determined to get more from him, she says quietly into his ear, “Your form is much better than you made it sound like it would be.” She lightly smacks his ass with her palm as she steps away. 

He just takes it, but she hears a small groan emanate from him during his next breath. That’s not exactly the reaction she was hoping for, but it’s enough to satiate her for now. 

It might be that she’s getting too much satisfaction from this but gods he’s beautiful like this she thinks as she steps even further away to pick up and make the broom fly. 

She hovers a little bit away from him studying his stance. His hips and feet, they’re alright, but he could ground himself more, that’s something to work on.

She watches as he shoots ten more, all hitting center or near enough to it, after the tenth he relaxes, looking around, up toward the sky he spots her instantly. Placing a finger on his earring he asks, “I have a question dear, what do I get for winning this?”

“This isn’t a competition,” she says confused.

“No, it’s not, but I’m still exceeding all your expectations, aren’t I?” he says it so playfully, he’s very proud of himself isn’t he, that’s good.

“Keep shooting de Rolo,” she says dryly. 

He shoots five more before she gets the idea, turning the broom and getting a special arrow from her quiver, she lands just behind him. Once another arrow has hit in the circle he’s making around the outer edge of the bull’s eye she taps him on the shoulder.

“Use this one,” she says to him once he’s turned to her, she can see the surprise in his eyes.

Shaking his head, he takes her hand, the one holding the arrow, “But dear I made that for you.”

“I’m sure,” she insists, using a tone that leaves no room for him to refuse her.

She can’t wipe the smile off her face when after a second he takes the arrow from her and examines it. “Aim for the edge, it’ll be much more satisfying,” placing a kiss on his cheek, then getting back on the broom and moving a-ways behind him, not that she’s nervous about the explosion she just doesn’t want him to feel like she’s hovering too close.

Deciding at the last moment to shut her eyes because thus far this has been about both of them in a way but this is different. He’s told her that making exploding arrows for her is as much as he’s going to allow himself to touch his old habits, and even then she knows he’s only allowed himself that much because it makes her happy.

She should have thought this through more, now mildly worried about how he will react to using this particular arrow. She’s relieved when in a moment she hears the target explode.

“How was that?” she asks into the earring after she’s opened her eyes. He’s still, hasn't moved since he made the shot. Watching as he relaxes, he runs over to where the target is on the ground still slightly on fire and stomps it out with his boots. The hay nearby didn’t catch fire, that’s a blessing. 

“A small part of me has missed that,” he confesses in a whisper once there’s nothing else for him to do.

He looks down at his quiver counting the arrows he has left she thinks, “You’ll have to make some arrows for yourself then won’t you?”

“I might just,” he looks at her in the air. From here she can see the smile on his face. That went better than expected.

Watching while Percy walks to the next target down the line, she notices that Trinket has come out of the forest running. He’s such a good bear, probably coming to check on them because he heard the exploding arrow. He must have kept close to the edge of the tree line after leaving them when they were on the walk halfway here. The concern on his face is gone in moments after finding the two of them, no fighting going on. Trinket walks over to where all of their things are and sits down on the layer of loose hay there.

Percy’s noticed this as well but once Trinket settles down he goes back to practicing. Once he shoots five more and they land close to or right in the bull’s eye he turns to look at her again. He waves for her to come over and she lands next to him. After putting the broom down on the ground, he envelops her in a hug, the bow pressing lightly into her back as it’s still held in his hand.

“How did that feel darling?” putting her hands on his chest, fingers running over scars. How is he still so warm?

“It felt different, but a good different,” his face in her hair while she slides one hand down further between them. She can feel him against her hand, already hardening and straining against his trousers. 

“So I looked good like that?” he smugly asks as they part. 

Giving him one good look up and down before saying, “It was quite a show,” as calmly as she can manage, and not doing a very good job of it. She’s so ready for him. 

Steadying herself a little against him, she knows that she’s already made up her mind about the bow, but there’s one last thing she’d like to see before this ends. “One more,” clearing her throat and taking an arrow from his quiver before explaining, “You never activated the magic in the bow, it’s your favorite type of magical attack, more shots, all with extra lightning damage,” holding the arrow out in her hands.

He smiles at her and takes the arrow. Getting in position again, she can see the concentration on his face before he completes the shot. The three magical arrows hit the middle of the target, lightning flying right behind them. The target completely set on fire for a moment before the lightning fades from it, leaving it slowly burning and the arrows incinerated. The smile on his face when he looks back at her is a lovely sight, so excited about what he’s done. Trinket growls from where he sits, probably annoyed with the noise.

After placing the bow on the ground, Percy goes over to the target pulls the target to the ground and puts out whatever is left burning.

Once he returns he stands very close to her, and she moves closer and holds on to his shoulders before he takes a long breath in and out, smiles, “Dear your bow is quite impressive.”

He said it so matter of factly that she can’t help but laugh before she shifts closer to him, looking up at him through her lashes she says so easily, “It’s yours now if you want it.”

The look of confusion on his face is so endearing, he never suspected that she’d give it to him.

“The bow I want you to keep it. You’re very good with it,” she kisses his cheek.

Taking his hand in hers and running her fingers over the glove, “It would work so well with the whole lighting and thunder thing you have going on with your cloak and your belt. Diplomacy will even fit right over the glove.”

Looking up again in time to see him shake his head, “Vex you don’t have to…” very seriously before she cuts him off.

“I don’t need it when I have Fenthras for battle and my Blood-Seeker to hunt with, it’s such a wonderful bow, it deserves to be used,” she explains before he can refuse. 

Seeing his expression soften, “Dear, if this helps you even a little bit then Percy, it’s yours.”

She watches as he fights against his own emotions, his words stuck in his throat. “Thank you,” he says tenderly, once he’s leaning into her, finding balance again by wrapping his arms around her waist. 

He moves forward to kiss her. It’s a gentle thing, practically no heat and she doesn’t add any. Ignoring for now what her body truly wants, it seems like he is too. 

“You’re a much better archer than you lead me to believe, but you still have to let me teach you a few things alright?” she says once the kiss ends.

“Alright,” his eyes still closed as he nods his head against hers.

It’s incredible how easy he makes it to tease him sometimes. Trying to scoot away a little he holds her firmly against him, but she continues saying, “Now the placement of your hips, look at me. If you just shift your…” 

As she speaks his eyes open and she does glance down at his hips while demonstrating for him how he could better ground himself by altering his feet position as he shoots but she doesn’t get far. His leather covered fingers gently lift her chin to guide her into another kiss, this one far less chaste. There’s an intensity to this kiss that she wasn’t expecting just yet. 

Everything about the way he’s holding her conveys how much he wants her. His hand leaves her chin to slide fingertips over the edge of her ear, just a few gentle touches making her moan, then resting that hand on the side of her neck the ends of the black leather strip tickling her there. His other hand moves from her waist down to her ass and stays there for a moment before lifting the bottom of her tunic and toying just under her leggings and small clothes, then going deeper, settling on her hip. The drag of leather against her skin is so good. All she can do is hold on.

“If you really want to talk about proper hip placement we can go home right now,” he breathes into her ear once he ends the kiss. The breath against her ear sends even more heat through her, and she can feel herself throb. She can’t help but try to rub against his leg, looking for some friction.

Ever the gentleman, he shifts one leg closer to her center and uses the hand he has under her clothes to guide her there. After finding some pleasure, she smiles and giggles against his chest, “You’re distracting me.” 

“I’m distracting you?” he says with a laugh, “that whole time you were…” but he’s suddenly silent as her hand slips between them and touches him. Giving just enough pressure and returning his kindness. He groans in frustration as he finds his words, nodding his head, “the touches and all the innuendoes.” 

“You were very focused. I didn't even know you noticed,” she grins as she gives him just a little more pressure.

"Liar," he says after a minute of that, as she shifts her hand away. 

Then he asks once he's caught his breath, "Wasn’t the point of this to distract you now so you’ll be able to concentrate tomorrow?” 

She can only nod against his chest, thankfully he’s stopped moving, and she just continues to lean into him while she says between breaths “Partially… yes.”

He breathes deliberately cool air over the tip of her ear and she can't help but squirm. She's able to hear the pleased smile on his face as he says, “Then let me say dearest, that you look like an explosion waiting to be set off.”

“I certainly feel like one,” she says softly, agreeing with him as she looks up at his face.

His expression instantly softens when he looks her in the eye. “I’d be more than happy to help you with that,” He's being honest, gradually moving the hand he has under her clothes closer to the front.

“I like the way you think.” she leans up to kiss his chin gently.

“Where do you want to finish this, out here, in the castle, or at home?” he asks moving his hand slowly out of her clothes. 

What he doesn't know is that right now she doesn’t even want to try to be quiet, so there’s really only one good option.

Momentarily relaxing against him she says, in between deep breaths, “Home... Percival… take me home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos appreciated.


End file.
